Oh Can I, Can I Cameo?

When I was really young, I used to laugh at expulsions of air.

Pfft.

This is a real joke what I have written and is the only ‘funny’ thing I have managed lately. I have been trying to funnel all of my creative energies in preparation for the radio shows which are starting next week, specifically the 31st of October and the 1st of November 12pm until 3pm. 87.8fm and at http://www.rhonddaradio.com/. Plug!

The problem with this is that while I am still enjoying myself and feel I am being flexed creatively, I am unable to recycle the material for this blog, at least not until after I’ve used it on air. So while my amazing plans for the Tales of Isembard Cannonby and my new game whose title I am unable to type for reasons of secrecy fill me with joy, I am unable to go into them in any detail. Is this what they call a tease?

The creative team of Adfydd (Adam & Dafydd) have been busy ploughing away on pre-records, with 5 episodes of The Cultural Exchange Program recorded, though they all need varying levels of editing. The recording of the fourth, Comedy/Instrumental, and the fifth, Folk/Guitarists, took place outside the studio environment, thanks to the audio equipment I acquired upon the anniversary of the day of my birth. We’ve discovered that even whilst recording in a more casual environment, we are still capable of the faux-professional apparent-shambles we put out in an actual studio. There is some incidental ambient noise provided by traffic, postmen and the dongings of clocks that isn’t present in the studio, but I feel this adds to the diy ethic of our output. Oh yes, our output. Indeed. When outside the studio however, we are, in the course of the two hour recording, tempted by mischief.

In the first of the two recordings a discussion about a black bassist who opted out of a family band in order to further his solo career sparked an irreverent discussion about Michael Jackson, which peaked with Dafydd uttering, in tones of heavy gravitas: “RIP Michael Jackson”, which led to roughly 5 minutes of painful belly-laughter and tears. I replicate that information here as the belly laughter has not made the edit, as we felt it would make us seem unduly nasty. It’s a pity that we have had to sand the spiky edges off our recording in order to make it fit to what we imagine is the ‘serving the community’ ethos of our radio station, but we have kept a copy of the original version, if only for our own amusement.
A similar burst of laughter came in today’s recording when, after our discussion petered out under the weight of a strange tangent, I bellowed Michael Legge’s beloved catchphrase “WHAT’S WRONG?!” into the mic, provoking an unexpectedly gleeful reaction from Dafydd, which subsequently sent me into fits of laughter. Sadly, this too may not make the final edit, as the randomness of the humour may not translate. You never know though, I may drop it haphazardly in the timeline, and say it was an accident. And if people complain, I will merely reiterate the question.

This has been a good week for podcasts, and not only because I have appeared, to varying degrees, in two.

At the very beginning of the week, the unintelligible ramblings of the Welsh Peacock and Gamble (me and Dafydd again) were transmitted via a live satellite link, or as they call them in lieville: an mp3 file, into the real Peacock and Gamble podcast. I felt our input was dealt with masterfully, with Ray and Ed joking that they were unable to understand our accents, or implying that we were speaking in Welsh, which not only provided a platform for their silliness, but also meant that they didn’t have to directly comment on what we were actually saying, meaning our egos were unhurt.

Then, later in the week, my contribution to the whip-round on twitter for questions for the Interview James segment of the Precious Little podcast was used, and therefore in some small way I was involved in that also. This brings my ‘appearances’ in podcasts up to 3, as I have also had some idiotic ramblings read out on the wonderful Trap Sodcasts. As sad as it is that I am genuinely excited to have had my idiocy recorded and internetted in this way, there are only a small number of podcasts to which I subscribe, and I began to genuinely machinate on how I could get my name on all of them.

Atop my list of favourites is the Collings and Herrin podcast, which I could conceivably buy my way into, as they have a history of podcast-sponsorship by fans. Whether or not this desire to have my name in the podcasts I listen to is worth the money it would take to sponsor the podcast is, at this point, uncertain.

Richard Herring’s new Tuesday wonderfest AIOTM would also be possible to get into, as the content is drawn from notable things which have occurred to Mr Herring. It would take a carefully planned undertaking to get onto that one, but I am sure if I ambushed him somewhere on his travels and branded my name onto his forehead with something boiling that was shaped like my name, it would almost certainly make the show, especially as he would have to explain the wound to a bewildered audience. Knowing how sneaky the Herring man can be however, it’s possible he would reverse my name in a sly joke about reading it in the mirror. Damn you Herring.

All past potential contributions to Adam & Joe or Jon Richardson’s shows have failed, but maybe if I raise my game and put real effort into the e-mails I can break through the 6music barrier.

I have recently taken to listening to iszi Lawrence and Simon Dunn’s Sundays Supplement podcast, which is the perfect size for car trips to and from work. It is also funny, which perhaps my length-based criterion failed to suggest. In order to get into that I would need to be mentioned in a national newspaper, or more specifically, in the supplement of a Sunday edition of a national newspaper. Or more specifically, in the supplement of the specific Sunday edition of a national newspaper that one of them had brought that particular week. Or more specifically, in an article of particular interest to one of them that was in the supplement of a Sunday edition of the national newspaper that one of them had brought. Alternatively, I could e-mail them I suppose.

All this planning and I haven’t even reached Rhod Gilbert’s Best Bits (possible), Daniel Kitson’s podcast (fairly impossible) or Robin Cooper’s Timewaster podcasts (hugely unlikely). I’m not convinced that I have the necessary oomph to see this through.

I have also been told that I was on television earlier, though I had anticipated this using my Sherlock Holmes/Sad Git powers and sky plussed it.

I imagine my contribution is limited to a split second appearance in a montage, hopefully alongside iszi Lawrence and Ben Partridge. After all, isn’t being in a montage with more talented people everyone’s real goal?

I think this appearance would be in accordance with the British Montage Act 1947, which states that people who unwittingly appear in a montage alongside each other on a UK terrestrial channel are legally required to enter a legally binding polygamous marriage. In the event of this marriage, I imagine I would be the only pleased party.

If I go home and discover there is no montage, I will be heartily displeased.

There’s ever a chance I will end up in a montage with Andrea Benfield, which would please me less, but would still be a positive outcome for me.

Remember, whenever we want to go, from just a beginner to a pro, you need a montage.

And lost of practice.

Pedantry, Pedantry, Whimsy, Self-Deprication

What a difference a shift makes.

I’m not really sure how I underwent such an about face in the space of four hours. Actually I am fairly sure, and I am about to provide you with a meandering and long-winded account of the occurrences that led up to my fall from contentment.

I was pleased this morning to receive two items of correspondence that were of worth, rather than the vapid, unwanted spam that usually peppers the entrance portal of my domain. They were both related to money, specifically the aspect of money pertaining to my ownership of some. This is good news, as there is a particularly spiffing hat I wish to make purchase of. According to Mr Bill Gates ‘spiffing’ is not an actual word, and I feel it is my duty to redirect you here in order to substantiate my rather antiquated choice of adjective.

Since now I am, as they say in The Hollywood, in the money, I hastily made purchase of an album I had had my sights on for awhile, No Torso’s Several Brains. I originally picked up a few of their tracks when they allowed them to be downloaded for free on MySpace, back when it wasn’t a grievous faux pas to have such an address in your browser. The tracks were Fight the Blue Horizon and Fatal Fraud, and appear on the album, though Fatal Fraud has undergone radical sonic surgery since I originally heard it. For me Fight the Blue Horizon is by far the best track on the album, though this choice is likely slightly biased, as it is the track I was the most familiar with from beforehand, even serving a brief stint as my ringtone. Not many of the other tracks instantly endear themselves, though they seem considered and nuanced enough to warrant proper and repeated listens, rather than a snap write-off, especially considering I only bought the album today.

On the way into work I listened to the Precious Little Podcast, a spanking new baby making its way into the podcasting world. It features comedian and all-round angry man Michael Legge and also James Hingley, who from what I can glean with my far-from-Holmesian abilities is a good-comedy enthusiast. A trend I’ve noticed in my preferred podcasts of late, notably including The Collings and Herrin Podcast and also The Trap Sodcasts, is the habit of the podcasteers to declare “No one will have made it this far”, suggesting that due to the perceived awfulness of the recording everyone will have stopped listening. This isn’t the case, as at the absolute least, I am still listening. So I would suggest that either this line is dropped or is amended with “except for Adam Gilder, who is such a tenacious listener he will most definitely be listening”. They’ve nothing to lose, as at the point that that is uttered, it’ll only be me listening. I am hoping that it will catch on in a “Who Is John Galt?” style, where people will utter “It’s like speaking to Adam Gilder”.

Actually, thinking about this, I have been found to be ‘Best Listener’ through a consensus of my peers, as proven here:


I am also voted the ‘Best Sense of Humor’, and I am equally pleased and displeased with this vote: pleased to have my good humour acknowledged, displeased to have it misspelled. I’m also uncertain with the ‘Best Sense of Humour’ as this isn’t the same as ‘Funniest’, it seems to suggest that I cannot write a joke, but I can bloody appreciate the fuck out of one. So perhaps the gentlemen of Precious Little will be heartened to know that their podcast was received with enjoyment from this comedy nerd. Like a rabid Gremlin fed after midnight, I eagerly await more. That analogy doesn’t really work as Gremlins aren’t famed for waiting patiently.

I do find it quite sinister that the other aspect that is considered most notable of me is that I am ‘useful’. I am unsure what use these people believe they have for me, and it is almost certain that I will not enjoy their nefarious plans.

Since there were no news stories that sparked my curiosity, I spent roughly three hours reading entries in the Chortle forums, which I wrongly believed would not suffer from the forum-based-idiocy of every other forum. I believe it was Elis James who first alerted me to the process called a ‘Brain-Wrong’, and this extensive reading of forum entries certainly fits this category. Apart from the very occasional sensible and engaging entries (usually from Steve Bennett, Bethany Black, Paul Sinha or Wil Hodgson) there is such a huge mountain of idiocy, all the colours of the cuntbow. Whichever your bigotry of choice, you are provided for. There is a strong counter-current of rational entries fighting the tide, but some people refuse to understand. It was this slew of what I will tentatively call ‘bad vibes’ that put me into such a sour mood, alongside a child of 11 asking me how to spell ‘changer’. Like change, but with an R on the end. How do you spell change? D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-N-G.

The ignorant forum entries highlighted such a huge difference of world view between myself and the posters, I had to wonder whether it was actually the same world that we inhabit. This topic is dealt far more wonderfully by Daniel Kitson, whose podcasting techniques I cannot fathom but utterly adore. Mr Kitson must be possessed by some strange madness, as he has opted to release some of his old Edinburgh shows for free in podcast form. I’m unsure as to why he opts not to get in touch with gofasterstripe, as this tag team of comedy production and distribution would cap the decade off wonderfully, in my opinion. Regardless, I am overjoyed to partake of these shows for free, and I will be intellectually self-medicating with deconstruction, deconstruction, deconstruction, whimsy and callback in order to cure myself of the forum-induced brain haemorrhage I have suffered. Kitson is the antithesis of internet posters, which makes this blog entry so very bittersweet, as I aim to poorly pay homage to his work, using the medium of idiocy.

Bum.